


A Shell of Felicity

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Protective Oliver, Rape, before established felicity, olicity - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver finds out why and where Felicity goes that one day a month she disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~THIS WAS A PROMPT I RECIEVED. I have no other reason to carry out the story than for that fan, and the others that enjoyed the story.

It took longer than it should have for Oliver to realize that Felicity always disappeared the third wednesday of each month. On Tuesday she would be quieter than usual and by Thursday she walked with a lightness to her step—like just a bit of weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was a subtle difference. But it had Oliver wondering just what Felicity did on that day—just where she disappeared to.

On the third Tuesday of October, Felicity sat distracted in her chair of the lair, clicking a pen against her desk. Oliver was watching her quite obviously as he trained with Digg, much to Digg’s confusion, as Oliver was determined to find out what distracted Felicity so much.

“I’m meeting the Lances for dinner, I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Oliver announced at seven that night, resting a light hand on Felicity’s arm. To his surprise, she flinched harshly, coming out of her haze as she yanked her arm away from him.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” The intense look on Felicity’s face had Oliver stuttering. It had vanished quickly, but as she had moved away from him, he had a glimpse of something he had never seen in her before—complete and utter fear. But it disappeared with a rapid blink of her eyes, so quickly he thought he’d imagined it. She forced a stiff smile on her cotton candy lips.

“You’re fine. I’m just not feeling good— I don’t think I’ll be here tomorrow,” Felicity spoke without a hint of a babble, an oddity for her, grabbing her purse and rising from the chair.

“See you guys Thursday,” She said with a small wave at the pair of them as she retreated. She looked like Felicity, and sounded like Felicity, but their was an air of sadness around her Oliver had never noticed; a tone to her words that made determined to do anything to make her happy again.

“Where does she go?” Oliver murmured to Digg.

“What do you mean?” Digg asked, putting away the weapons they had been training with.

“She disappears the same day every month and never takes off any other days. Only that one. Why?”

Digg gave him a look that strongly judged how closely Oliver seemed to be studying Felicity.

“I don’t know man, Why don’t you ask her?” Digg said, before departing as well.

***

The next morning Oliver made his way up the stairs to Felicity’s apartment, about to knock on the door when it swung open and he was met by the back of a blonde head.

“Stupid, dumb boot, just go on…” Felicity juggled two bouquets of flowers and coffee as she struggled to pull a heeled boot on over her dark jeans and close the door behind her. Her glasses teetered on the edge of her nose, and her hair was curled and down, billowing around her shoulders as she struggled. 

“Let me help,” Oliver said, reaching for the coffee, but instead startling Felicity into flinging the coffee onto the mat below them.

“Oliver!” Felicity screeched, “Don’t you knock? What are you doing here?”

“Well I was about to knock when you opened the door,” Oliver followed Felicity as she stalked back into her apartment, refilling the now empty coffee mug.

“Oliver you shouldn’t be here,” She angled her body and face away from him as she slowly remade her coffee—two sugars and a touch of cream.

“I thought you were sick?” Oliver asked, unable to stop the accusatory tone.

“I am,” She said flatly, finally turning back towards him, and Oliver met her eyes for the first time that morning. For a moment he thought she might actually be sick, despite the fact she had been obviously going out, as she looked at him through red eyes and blotchy skin, before he realized she wasn’t sick—she had been crying.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His annoyance over her absence was quickly replaced by concern as he approached her, cupping her face in his hands, but she flinched away from him. He studied her as she backed away. She was different. Like a shell of Felicity, unfilled, as she trembled so lightly he had to look closely to notice, and repeatedly shifted her weight between her feet. She looked overwhelmed by his presence, and lifted a hand to her head in exasperation, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Just leave please. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Felicity begged.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I told you I’m,” Felicity started.

“You’re not sick,” Oliver interrupted, “The truth, please.”

Felicity studied him for awhile, and her expression held him from further questioning her. She was more vulnerable than he had ever seen her, and her eyes pleaded with him behind her glasses. For what, he didn’t know, but she hesitantly nodded as though finding in him what she needed.

“Come with me. I’ll show you where I go.”

*** 

Oliver protested only once in confusion as she drove a route he had never been on, but she asked him to wait—she would answer everything later.

So they drove in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable as light music played around them and Oliver alternated between watching the road and watching Felicity as she made sure turns, as though she had driven this path many times before.

When they pulled up to a cemetery, Oliver bit his tongue to hold back the stream of questions he ached to voice, and followed as Felicity wound through the rows of headstones. She stopped suddenly, and glanced at Oliver before taking a deep breath, placing the flowers next to the grave.

Derek Lincoln Collins

1987-2010

Beloved Son

“This is Oliver. He’s a friend of mine, and he wanted to know where I go on these days I disappear. So I’m here to show him you, Derek,” She spoke loudly, more to Oliver than to the stone below them, but the next line she spoke was lowered, as though not for Oliver at all, “I’m so sorry I’m not sorry.”

The sob that begged to escape Felicity’s small body was so forcibly contained that it pained Oliver. He could hardly process her words as he watched her hold herself together, her eyes leaking a couple of quiet tears that she quickly brushed away.

“Felicity, who…?” Oliver asked, but she shook her head at him.

“Later,” She insisted before tugging his arm, pulling him down another couple rows of headstones.

This one was more elegant than the last—it was engraved with a flowered pattern and had an attached stone vase that held wilted flowers. Felicity grabbed the old flowers, replacing them carefully with the new ones she brought. She stooped, silent for a long time, arranging the bouquet carefully, before finally standing up and taking a step back.

“I brought you more flowers. They had a really good selection for October, so I just had to get them,” Felicity cleared her throat past any reservations she had and slipped an arm in Oliver’s, pulling him close. 

“This is Oliver. If you were still here you probably wouldn’t have met him, because I probably wouldn’t have ever agreed to help him on his crazy endeavor. It would have been too dangerous for you. He means a lot to me now though, so I brought him here to meet you.”

Felicity turned to look up at Oliver, her eyes ringed with tears, but Oliver noticed that she was lighter than she had been at the last grave, and an encouraging smile lifted her lips.

“Oliver. This is Maddie, my daughter.”

Madelyn Donna Smoak

2010-2010

Beloved Daughter

***

They sat an hour later at Big Belly Burger, and they hadn’t said much after they had left the cemetery. After they both ordered and ate quietly, Felicity looked down at her crossed hands, twirling her thumbs together.

“Felicity…” Oliver pleaded. He needed to know what today had meant. What the graves had meant.

Felicity stared another minute at the table before looking up at him, but her eyes were unfocused as she recounted her memory.

“I was a senior year at MIT when I found out I was pregnant. I decided to get an abortion. Getting pregnant had been a, m-mistake,” Felicity floundered over the word, “that I didn’t want to remember. So I went to the clinic, and signed in and everything, when this girl walked out of one of the rooms. Not with the lady I knew handled cases like mine, but the maternity side. The girl was probably a few younger than me, and she looked absolutely terrified. The nurse was telling her all about everything that was going to happen—from morning sickness to cramps, and she looked completely terrified. She looked how I felt,” 

Felicity looked directly at Oliver then, and he sat pinned, as she spoke with such emotion he could barely breathe.

“I remember exactly what the girl said to the nurse. She stopped her in the middle of a sentence about swollen ankles and said, “I’ve been through hell already. I can do anything now,” And the nurse looked at her like she was absolutely crazy. Here was this tiny girl who’s boyfriend had knocked her up and left her. She had nothing. But the girl just looked down at her stomach, and smiled.”

Felicity’s eyes lit up at that, “She smiled because despite everything that hurt in her life, she had one thing that could make it better. It was a gift. And she was keeping it. So I skipped my appointment. I decided to have the baby,”

Oliver thought back to the grave that contradicted Felicity’s happy smile and watched as the delight faded from her lips.

“I went into labor three months early. The doctors said she would never make it—she was too tiny. Too precious,” Felicity ran a hand over her face.

“They were right. She only made it a week before her heart gave out,” Felicity’s eyes were haunted as they looked at Oliver, and he fumbled for something to say, but instead reached for her hand, running his fingers over her knuckles.

“Felicity,” he breathed, and she looked up at him sadly.

“It’s okay Oliver,” she went to pull her hands away, but he held them tightly.

“No. It’s not. I’m so sorry,” Oliver couldn’t help but think of the hours she had spent playing with Lyla and Digg’s daughter Jayden; how a smile had lit Felicity’s face as they played but her eyes had rang of sadness as she sat captivated by the baby.

Felicity nodded at his apology, and relaxed into her side of the booth, relieved that he finally knew the truth.

“What about the other grave we visited? Is that her dad?” Oliver asked calmly, but noticed how Felicity froze in her booth. 

“Yes,” she said slowly.

“So you guys were together?” Oliver asked, pushing away the twinge of jealousy that coursed through his veins.

“No,” Felicity said, and the look on her face was a forced calm, but Oliver saw the jumpiness she had earlier in her apartment emerging.

Oliver figured it must have been a one time thing that she was embarrassed about, so he moved on slightly.

“How did he die?” Oliver asked.

“He was killed,” Felicity said, but Oliver watched Felicity’s face for the emotion he saw earlier as she had told him about Madelyn, and found none. She was empty again—a Felicity shell.

“It was three months before Madelyn was born. I hadn’t talked to him since, the night, we had,” Felicity took a large breath and blew it out before continuing, “He didn’t know I was pregnant. I saw on the news—he had been murdered during a shooting right off campus. He was gone,” Her voice reported the events calmly, and Oliver was unsure of this side of Felicity—her voice was cold.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, even though he had a suspicion that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“Don’t be. I’m not. I was so happy when I saw that,” Felicity picked at her cold fries and avoided his gaze as she spoke. Oliver saw the shame and guilt over her omission cloud her face, and he sat still a moment, trying to understand. 

Felicity—the one who had always encouraged him to not kill, was glad that somebody had died. Oliver thought back over their day together— How she said Madelyn’s father was a one time thing. He didn’t even know she was pregnant. How she flinched every time they had talked about him. How she had even flinched away from Oliver, who’s touch she normally accepted. The fear that had shown through her eyes multiple times over the day.

Oliver felt disbelief fill him a moment, before anger blinded every sense he had. The room around them blurred as he focused on Felicity in front of him—she sat hunched in shame, tears brimming her eyes as she begged him to understand. But what she didn’t realize was that he understood—if the man hadn’t already been killed, Oliver would have gone out and done it himself. 

“Felicity,” Oliver’s distraught voice caught as a sob of both anger and sadness lodged in his chest, “Derek raped you. Didn’t he?”

Felicity’s haunted look was all the answer he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

“Felicity,” Oliver’s distraught voice caught as a sob of both anger and sadness lodged in his chest, “Derek raped you. Didn’t he?”

Felicity’s haunted look was all the answer he needed.

Oliver ran through a mill of emotions in those next moments as he stared at Felicity. She was hunched in her seat, picking at the cold food in front of her. She looked beaten down and battered—her eyes filled with such guilt and horror, it pained him. He couldn’t help but see a small piece of himself in those eyes in that moment—the part of him that still saw himself as a monster after those five years spent living as one. Her eyes betrayed her in this moment; revealed the self disgust she had been so keen and able to hide until this point.

“Felicity,” he called hesitantly, coaxing her into lifting her eyes to him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” 

He hoped for an answer that would be easy. That maybe she wanted to forget it ever happened. That it hurt too much to think about. Those answers, while heartbreaking, were simple. Logical. Understandable. What Felicity said next though brought his inner demons to life, as she voiced his deepest fear.

“I didn’t want you to look down on me,” Felicity answered, finally meeting Oliver’s eyes—and for not the first time, words weren’t necessary with Felicity. He knew exactly what she meant without her saying it, one, because this was Felicity. His Felicity. And also because he knew the struggle she faced every day. 

Because it wasn’t that she was embarrassed or ashamed that she was raped. No, she was too strong to let that hold her down. She didn’t need to forget something that ultimately brought her great joy. 

“Despite the circumstances, I lovedMaddie from the second I decided to keep her. I moved past the horrible thing Derek had done, and decided to love where it got me. You know, when life gives you lemons and all,” Felicity smiled lightly at her analogy.

“But even though I was excited about Maddie, I couldn’t help but think of the day when he found out. Couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to Maddie—what would happen to me. So when that news report came on, I felt so… overjoyed,” Felicity said, speaking with more clarity as Oliver reached a comforting hand over her own, “I was so happy that he was dead. Me. I was happy that another life had ended.”

“Two weeks later I went into labor early. A week after that, Maddie was gone,” Felicity said with a tear in her eye.

Oliver watched her for a minute, brow furrowed, “You can’t honestly think the two are connected. That’s crazy,” Oliver said with conviction, but Felicity shook her head.

“Oliver, I’ve never believed in karma. I pay attention to science. Facts. Things I can explain,” Felicity sighed, “But all I know is I was elated about someone’s murder and right after that, I lost the most important person in my life. Coincidence? I just can’t accept that,” Felicity’s voice was almost a whisper as she finished, lost in her thoughts. 

“That’s why you visit his grave—you feel guilty,” Oliver pointed out astutley.

“Nobody else ever visits. I’ve never seen a family member, or even a bouquet of flowers. That just doesn’t feel right,” Felicity shrugged, and Oliver looked at her in awe. This beautiful woman with cherry stained lips was the best person he had ever known. She was so angry—mad that this man had inadvertently given her the most precious thing in that world, only to take have it taken away. She was angry at the world. But despite that—despite every reason she had to hate the world—she continued to live. To thrive. She helped Oliver and Digg as they saved the city. She was light and happy, most of the time. She made everything better. She grieved though, and Oliver only now realized how much, but she put her pain aside completely for the good of others. 

As Felicity continued to watch and gauge his reaction, Oliver felt fiercely protective of her. He wanted to wipe away all the guilt and doubt she had, because he knew what it felt to be utterly crushed by your own demons. Because he realized, as Felicity grieved a man that had done nothing but harm her, that she was the most selfless person he had ever known.

Oliver reached over, cradling Felicity’s face in a palm and watched as relief filled her body at the contact.

“I love you,” Oliver stated out load for the first time, and Felicity cocked her head in confusion about to refute his confession, but he continued,“I love you because you’re the most selfless person in the world and don’t even realize it. I love you because you’re so damn strong it astounds me. I love you because you help the entire city when you’ve been hurt more than half the people you’re saving.” 

Oliver shook his head with a shy smile, “I love you—well, because I just can’t help it,” The guilt in Felicity’s eyed ebbed with each omission, light filling her again.

“I love you too,” she admitted, her throat catching with unshed tears and relief. In that moment, she was pure emotion. Pure passion. Pure Felicity. And Oliver couldn’t resist leaning across the table and taking those cherry stained lips with his own, damn the onlooking crowd around them.


End file.
